


Lowdown and Dirty

by Vortaesthetic



Category: Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: All of the trash and none of the class, M/M, PWP, getting dirty on a desk, more fun than one usually has at one's work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 06:19:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14349696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vortaesthetic/pseuds/Vortaesthetic
Summary: Detectives!AU. The tension between Rotan and Weyoun hits a boiling point. PWP.





	Lowdown and Dirty

"Come now. Don't tell me you're mad at me, Rotan," Weyoun said with a sly smile. "I've done nothing tonight that I haven't done a hundred times before."

"I'm angry because you aren't taking things seriously. One day, you're going to get yourself killed being flashy because you were too damned stupid to use good sense," Rotan'talag growled as he removed his leather shoulder holsters, slinging it onto his already very cluttered desk.

Weyoun was silent for a beat before offering Rotan a falsely unaffected smile. "Well, should that day ever come, you'll be happy to know you were right. Oh, imagine what my headstone's going to say! Here lies Weyoun, flashiest fool in the Bureau!" He lifted a bottle of beer in mock salute to his own stupid epitaph before he tilted it to his lips to take a swig.

Rotan snorted as he yanked the bottle out of Weyoun's hand. "Well, perhaps if you bothered to listen to what I am trying to tell you for once instead of being a smartass, no one would ever get the chance to be that stupid at your funeral." He touched the bottle to his lips, wrapping around the glass mouth where Weyoun's had been, tilting his head back to knock back a swig of that yeasty swill.

"Mmm, admit it. You worry about me," Weyoun purrs, nicking his bottle back and setting it aside. He stepped in close to work his fingers into the knot of Rotan's tie, gently working it loose. "If something were to happen to me, you would miss me."

Rotan merely snorted as he pretended not to notice Weyoun's clever fingers slipping beneath his suspenders to ease them off of his shoulders, his eager hands mapping the shape of his back, sampling every dip and curve.

"You're full of yourself."

"Mmm, a shame. A flaw of character. I'd _much_ rather be full of you," he crooned as he began to pick at Rotan's buttons, taking great relish in sliding each button through the hole as slowly as possible. He took his time working southward, planting a soft, wet kiss in the dip Rotan's collarbone, grazing his lips upward to mouth at the fluttering pulse in Ro's throat. Weyoun could feel the rumble of Ro's low growl through his lips and something in him crowed with victory. He claimed Ro's lips like a conqueror, as they savored each other with lips, teeth and tongues. A man could get drunk on this kind of power.

"You're slipping. Where's your clever word games? Your wit?" Rotan'talag asked as they parted for breath.

"Oh, I'm still clever. I'm just forward about what I want."

Rotan sucked at his teeth as Weyoun pressed in close to devour his neck, his huge hands spreading wide to tightly meld the Vorta's lithe body to his own, roaming up and down his back, cresting over the curve of his hip, relishing in the the supple softness of his ass through his slacks. Weyoun had already divested him of his shirt and tie and was crooking into the buckle of his belt, and all he'd given Weyoun in return is a dusky blush and a sense of victory. He had to turn the tables, to even out the score.

He stripped Weyoun of his jacket in short order, Weyoun's own shirt and tie soon joining Rotan's on the floor. He backed Weyoun onto the desk as he advanced on him, a wall of solid muscle and smoldering heat, paying no mind to the paperwork that was knocked onto the floor. Ro hooked his fingers into the band of the Vorta's slacks and undergarments and peeled them slowly off of his legs in one long, smooth stroke.

Weyoun was beautiful. He was all soft pale skin and tousled dark hair, stunned silent out of anticipation. Rotan's hips pinned Weyoun fast to the table, Weyoun's legs spread wide to permit Ro to get between them. Weyoun's cock stood at full attention, swollen and tender where it was pinned between them, the only thing separating them being a single layer of thin fabric. Ro rolled his hips languidly against the Vorta's and was rewarded with a sharp exhale and a long, throaty groan that only made Rotan all the harder.

"Rotan," Weyoun keened, lifting his hips to induce more delicious friction. This was suffering but oh, did it feel good. Pressure and promise and pleasure.

Rotan was nothing if not fair. He ditched the pants and pounced on the Vorta again, relishing in the searing heat of them skin-to-skin. The weight of his hips bearing down on the other. Rotan would have been afraid he was crushing him if not for Weyoun's breathy moans and his rolling hips; his questing fingers snatching out for Rotan's hard, heavy length to squeeze it tight against his own as they teased each other. Rotan's roving hands kneaded hard into the Vorta's ass in time with every languid, throbbing stroke. Weyoun hissed through clenched teeth as Rotan fought to keep silence. Ro felt like he was primed to explode when Weyoun's hands flew up and stilled against his chest.

Weyoun pushed against him and Ro lifted his weight off of him, afraid that he had somehow hurt him in his ardor. Afraid that he had done something wrong, but didn't dare to ask. The confusion was dispelled as the Vorta surged up into his arms, plundering Rotan's lips and mouth with a questing tongue and voracious lips. "You've been all over me since we started," Weyoun purred, his voice smooth like silk. "Don't you think that you ought to play fair?"

"Why? You don't," Rotan quipped as Weyoun deftly switched places with him, shoving Rotan's bulk down on the desk to clamber atop him. He straddled Ro's powerful legs as he licked a cool stripe up the Jem'Hadar's thigh, gusting hot breath over Ro's straining cock as he teased him with whispers and words.

"Look at this beautiful thing," Weyoun crooned as he took Rotan in hand, relishing in the softness that overlaid the straining, rock-hard core of muscle underneath. The tip was weeping, swollen, crying for release as Weyoun teased him. "It's positively lovely. I'm all aquiver already..."

Weyoun licked his slit full on, savoring in the salty flavor before he at last took him in hand and in mouth, his hands diligently kneading at the root of him as he worked the shaft with his lips and throat. Ro was so meaty and thick he couldn't take him all in, but he tried his level best, savagely sucking on him as his hand snuck around to pump the base of the shaft. Ro tried his best to control himself, to temper his strength and let Younie control the pace... but he couldn't help it if a few thrusts escaped him, surging deep enough into Weyoun's tight throat to make his eyes water.

Rotan's head lolled back on his shoulders as he savored the sensation, curling his fingers tightly into  Weyoun's short, dark hair, cupping the back of his skull with one large palm as the Vorta's head bobbed at the apex of Ro's hard thighs. Their movements grew more frantic as Rotan's iron control began to fracture, his huge hand guiding Weyoun's head to accept his more frenzied thrusts until he hit a burning peak and felt himself release, Weyoun locking eyes with him as his throat bobbed and he tilted his jaw to swallow.

Weyoun was hypnotizing; face flushed, lips swollen and lurid pink, with hungry hunters eyes as he eyed Ro like a predator. He was staring him down even as Rotan's heavy, spit-slicked cock slipped back out of his mouth.

"Still don't think I like you?" Weyoun's voice is husky and the dissonance twists him in knots.

Rotan grabbed Weyoun by the arms and dragged him up the length of his body, pulling him in close enough to kiss. His jaw, his strange ears, his hot, plush mouth. He savored his hot breath, the smooth slide of his tongue, the scraping of teeth against teeth as the two of them writhed on top of the desk together, straining to find the position that afforded them the closest fit. Weyoun's wandering fingers walked up to the great crown of his head, palming the solid horns with reverence.

"Do you ever shut up?" Ro groaned as he flipped them over, pinning the Vorta flat to the desk and walking his lips down the length of his body, from lips to throat to soft belly. Weyoun moaned breathlessly, twisting in Ro's grasp, needing his touch everywhere.

"No," he gasps. "Not for you. I'm especially loud for you because I know you love it."

The rain on the window outside was the only sound they could hear, little more than white noise in the background. Weyoun twisted around in Ro's grasp, backing up to nestle his bottom against the hard line of Ro's thighs. He gave Ro an imperious little wiggle.

"Ro," he panted, a violet flush dusting his cheeks. "Please. No more teasing. I need it. I need it..."

"...are you sure?"

"Of all the-- of course I'm sure! Ro, please..."

Ro slipped a single finger into Weyoun's opening then, trying to gently ease him open so their joining would not be painful. He was careful, only slipping in a second finger when he felt the Vorta was ready for it. Weyoun keened beneath him, squirming and gasping at the sensation of the breach, starving for Rotan to press deeper, to touch him in just the right place. The Vorta was loud and hard to handle, but the sounds he made were positively decadent.

"Ro," Weyoun cried, his body rolling in time with their sway. "Don't drag it out. Don't make me...make me wait. Please."

Ro slowly slipped the fleshy crown of his cock into Weyoun, hissing at the delicious sensation of heat and pressure. He could feel the way Weyoun moved around him as he pressed in as deep as he could go, sliding slowly back out to start a gentle pace.

Weyoun rocked forward on his hands and knees as they began to move together faster, harder. Ro pumped into him and Weyoun bore down and rolled his hips to guide him home, lost in a sea of scorching bliss.

Ro's every nerve was on fire, throbbing harder with every tight stroke. The smell of sweat, the feel of their slick skin and their hot friction set him ablaze as they climbed higher and higher. Ro had one hip in his grip to hold the Vorta in place as he drilled into him. A sneaky hand crept around to wrap around Weyoun's twitching, straining cock, gliding over it in time with their steady rhythm.

With a gasp and a cry, Weyoun came hard, his breath trapped in his chest as he was wracked with rolling waves of fire; the sun blazed behind his eyelids as he arched, coming in spurts in Ro's large hand. It truth, it was the half-sobbing, breathless cry that caused Ro to come undone, his hips stuttering in their frenzied drive, his hands locking Weyoun in place so he could bury himself in him, empty himself in him, savor the delicious tightness…to ride the last thrilling high as he bled himself dry in him.

What was once blazing heat and electric sex had given way to a sudden stillness, punctuated only by the sound of their breath, of the swift thudding of their heartbeats.  
  
The pair slumped to the surface of the desk, Rotan pulling Weyoun down with him to lay on his side, still nestled in him. Their bodies, slick with sweat, cooled as they rested bare on the tabletop and listened to the gentle whir of the ceiling fan above. Lulled into a quiet contentment by the sound of the rain pouring down outside. Weyoun shivered with the cold and Rotan pulled his jacket from where it rest on the chair behind them and draped it over both of them.

"A gentleman _and_ a lover! What a catch," Weyoun purred, savoring the sensation of rubbing his slick thighs against Ro's.

Ro pulled the Vorta closer, relishing in the long-forgotten feel of holding someone in his arms. Several minutes elapsed while they lazed together in silence, the both of them drinking in this peaceful moment. Ro's eyelids grew heavy as he savored the rarity of this contentment...

He'd dozed off at some point. They both did, seeing as though Weyoun was still lying on the hard tabletop, though he had changed position, rolling over to tuck his face up underneath Ro's strong jaw. He was running his fingers softly over the curve of Rotan's shoulder, lost in thought.

"What time is it?"

"6:30," Rotan'talag responded, burying his face in Weyoun's hair, appreciating the scent of him, the tang of sweat and sex still lingering about them.

"You're a bad influence on me," Weyoun whispered against his throat. Ro could feel him smile against his skin. "Drinking until the early morning, getting naked with you in the office and sleeping on the furniture!"

"You say that like you care what other people think."

"...True. Well, mostly true. I know I'm usually flippant, but I would be an asshole if I didn't tell you that I _do_ care what _you_ think."

"Is that a fact?"

"It is. I do," Weyoun said, littering Ro's collarbone with lazy pecks. The sky outside the window was turning grey with the promise of morning light.

"And when does Luaran come in?"

"Eight. We have time," Ro growled possessively, pulling Weyoun's face in close for a kiss, wetly mouthing up his ear. "No need to rush. Stay. Unless there's some place you need to be."

Weyoun pulled away and looked at him for a beat, memorizing the look of Rotan's face in the dark. Memorizing the grain of his skin and the weight of his touch. The feel of their union, the tender care of Ro in the afterglow. All of that he could see, could feel in the gold light of the dawn reflecting off of Ro's eyes.

"No," Weyoun said as he leaned down, claiming Rotan's lips for a slow, lingering kiss. "I'm right where I need to be."

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The first thing I write for this AU and it's sleaze. Go figure.
> 
> Special thanks: you know who you are. ;)


End file.
